Light Before We Land
by speedofsoundsonic
Summary: A mercenary unit of Paratroopers are founded after the militiamen of Squad 7 go their separate ways. Nations across a deteriorating continent are on the brink of a great looming war. Ensemble Cast with Multiple PoVs.


LIGHT BEFORE WE LAND

"And when he gets to Heaven,  
To Saint Peter he will tell:

One more soldier reporting, sir-  
I've served my time in Hell."

POV Characters  
Johann 'Oswald' Eisen  
Riela Marcellis  
Edward Ustinov  
Leila Peron  
Vyse Inglebard  
Avan Hardins  
Zeri

Table of Contents  
1\. "Marberry Shore" (Ustinov 01) - A small mission for the Sevens turns into a catastrophic disaster.  
2\. "Blue Dragon" (Ustinov 02|Johann 01) - Isara miraculously survives a life-threatening injury, but the event is surrounded by shady circumstances with dire ramifications.  
3\. "Grim Reaper" (Riela 01|Johann 02) - Squad 422 commences a covert operation under new leadership.  
4\. "Separate Ways" (Leila 01|Vyse 01) - In preparation for the bloodbath at Naggiar, Largo surreptitiously disobeys orders.

Based on the series from SEGA and RAITA.

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On the edge in a northern town, Squad 7 died at Marberry Shore.

Rosie, stricken with grief, cried out. Her hands trembled as she returned fire. The commander only stood still, he didn't give us any orders. It went well for so long, that most of them couldn't imagine us ever losing again. A strange, serene smile was on Isara's calming face. Those three stayed put next to the Edelweiss while the rest of us regrouped.

I seldom spoke for the minutes after, as we readied ourselves for another shootout, stray bullets glazing our heads as we waited.

Even the boys' not fan of dark-hairs were nothing short of pissed. In the spur of the moment, the usually sarcastic Bohr cried out in anguish. Largo had to run in after Selden and nail her down to the ground before she rushed into enemy gunfire, and went and got herself killed for nothing. As for me, my high-powered GSR was still too weighty for a shrimp like me, and my aching shins weren't doing me any favors. It was getting real hectic among the squad.

"Get down!" Largo advised in a booming yell. Hell-fire rained down on us. Largo wrapped his giant hand around my head and forced me into the dirt, flat into the ground, getting my nose dirty with marble. He knew I pissed greener than grass. Seasoned guys tried their hardest to keep the greener boys alive. The acting sub-commander of Squad 7 called on whomever she could conjure up for a counterattack. I couldn't feel anything from the waist down at this point from working it too hard, but Melchiott had something in mind, and I wasn't turning down a chance to get the bastards back. I crawled over to the Shamrock. The air was thick with the smell of rusting metal.

The guys with me were Alex 'Bird' Raymond, the quickest scout in the entire militia, Montley Leonard, a 65 year old vet named Coby, and an old pal of mine, Melville Young. We go back years, him and I. The reason I'm here in the first place was because he gave me a letter of reference. I could be his meal ticket, then we would reminiscence about our school days. "Does anyone know where the hell Nelson's team ran off to?" Alicia was none too pleased imps slipped right past our van.

Melville pointed down a narrow walkway, hollering, "Saw her detachment chase a straggler once the fighting was done."

She shook her head and grunted irritably, "Listen, we'll get on the right side of the Shamrock and work our way to the other side. It'll lead us right into their part of town. It's not well-suited for taking out enemies at this range, but it has enough firepower to lay down a suppressing fire. Just don't peek your head out. Any questions?" We shook our heads.

"Lead on."

My stomach felt gross. Even in the best squadron in the entire militia, going in like this felt like such a long shot. Nonetheless, we had our orders, and from what I heard, we've followed crazier orders before. I braced myself as a metallic screech was heard from the wheels revving up. We climbed over a hill of debris, a trail of crunched dust following the treads.

Montley looked back at the lieutenant cradling his sister in his arms. Coby flicked him on his bandaged nose and was the first up the rough slope.

"Eyes forward lad, no going back."

To them I was just a dumb, tag-along rookie. Not even much of a sniper, but our squad had only four, so I got stuck with one by default. My goal here was simply to not get shot, and don't get in their way, so that's exactly what I did. This was nothing like target practice, so far, I haven't been able to shoot a single person. "Remember, those reds aren't on training wheels. They're well-trained like us, except with the advantage of being outfitted with plated helms, strong enough to stop a stray shot." Alex gave me some wise words of advice.

Melville noted nonchalantly, "I've gotta give 'em some credit, I couldn't see shit outta those ridiculous helmets."

Shamrock's barrel blast out a shell, I nearly shit my pants while flinching. Melville snorted as he burst into a laugh. Guy never learned how to read the mood. For once I kept my quiet as his humor was lost on me, "Hardly the time, man."

His jolly demeanor was pissing me off.

Even though our tank operator had been shot, the day looked more beautiful than any other. The clear skies were a thing of beauty. In the midst of an abandoned town, I heard the chirping of birds, and the screeching of the cicada. Only the rotor of the tank engine reminded me of being in a war-zone.

Zaka told us via radio, "Something's up. The treads keep stalling."

"Again, eh?" Coby mumbled.

"Come on," Montley was in the whining mood. "How many times today are we just gonna sit around and do nothing-!?"

Alicia cautiously examined the environment. "Use the houses as cover, whatever's left of them, anyway. Keep on my tail, and shoot anything not wearing blue. Move it people, c'mon! Move!" she shouted, "Double time!"

We quickly darted down the pathway with shots screaming overhead. I knelt over to peer into my scope, adjusting my line of vision, uncomfortably hunched over. Plenty of moving targets. The imps' pointed metal helmets were dead giveaways. I fired, and missed the shot. Took ages to reload my oversized cartridge.

Montley ignored us, sprinting on like a madman. It was pretty scary the way he did. It didn't seem human. A natural born runner; he got way ahead of us, while I lagged behind carrying around heavy mags. Carrying a rifle around as high-powered as this and there's bound to be repercussions of some sort. Back in the training camps I wasn't forced to carry around all this crap around my waist, plus this itchy, heavy uniform was really stiff on the shoulders. They didn't exactly equip us as well as they did the troops in the main army. Expandable is the word you'd use to describe the militia. Most couldn't believe the stories from the Writings on the Wall. To tell the truth, neither did I.

We tried catching up with Montley, but Alex and Melville stuck close to me, making sure that I wasn't left by myself. I couldn't tell if they were as tired as I was, but I was panting like a dog. Such a disgrace, being no more fit than the old man. I was unfit, and skinny, my only inheritance from a poor family of immigrants.

After a yard's worth of marching, there was a sharp click.

I heard the Sarge gagging hard. All our heads turned. Montley tripped up a land-mine and lost both his legs. Kid still tried reaching for his gun. Only thing I did was sit and stare in total disbelief, horrified. He was looking for any imperial to shoot while his nose bled, until his head tilted down and nodded off. Alicia begged him to keep awake. "Stay with me." Her eyes were wet in disarray, crying into her headpiece. "Sellers! Its Leonard! He's...!"

"Sarge, more incoming!" Alex covered us while I kept low, dumbfounded. Alicia screamed for a medic in desperation as imperials surrounded the perimeter. My gasping became excruciatingly more frantic.

"They were waiting for us. We're getting the hell outta here." Coby pulled her off Montley and cradled the boys' arms around his head, hoisting him up. He wanted to bring the kid back to his family, give him a proper burial, rather than leaving him in this awful place. The five of us pulled back towards the Shamrock, with a huge fork of rubble in the road, cutting off a convenient path back to the others.

"Friendlies coming in from the southeast," Zaka radioed in. "Something is stuck in the road-wheel, will be proceeding on foot." The imps already started on overtaking our position, on a steady move in, with their scouts all lined up so we can't fall back or try to interfere with their movements. We're being cornered on all sides, save for the unfamiliar east side that's protected with broken stones covered in moss. A war hero that smashed Gregor's territory in Fouzen was in their reach.

If imperials captured an infamous dark haired crusader like this one, his death end would be more than just a simple hanging. With the horror stories I've heard from a few tales by surviving POW's that fought in the First War, a quick death was a mercy.

We readied ourselves, the lingering dead silence on the line was nerve-wracking, since we were used to Welkin's continuous orders. Melville gave the tank two knocks, and didn't get any answer until the tank commander said, "Sorry, you'll have to push on without me fellas." I didn't understand at first, but somehow, the hatch had gotten jammed from inside.

"What? What does that mean?" I asked.

"It means we're leaving," Coby said grimly.

As we left him behind, Melville uttered a swear. Alex took the shuddering sergeant by her shoulder. Melchiott was so out of it. At this point, she was of no help to us either.

Rosie's frustrated voice sounded coarse through the radio comm. "Boss! Tell us what to do! Boss?!" That was the last bit I ever heard of Stark. Our backup reserves arrived soon after, our reinforcements consisted of Nelson, Peron, Lynn, and Evans. I could see the shine from Wulfstan's scope in the distance, spotting hostiles and then painting their iron in a muddy shade of red. There was yelling, a lot of it. Evans was crying.

"Hold on a little while longer! Nelson's cleaning up!" Another ambush hit us but this time our fresh reserves intercepted them without a hitch. As we pulled back, I saw an imp out in the open, begging for his life as he dropped his unloaded weapon. Susie shot some imp without hesitation. "We have wounded; we're retreating south. Sellers, get ready." He kept on the move, limping badly, as he radioed to our camp outpost; Evans giving leeway as our escort.

I reached over, but he refused with veins popping out his neck, "Get off of me!" He swung his arm away, collapsing with a grunt as his leg gave way. Bird held him up,

"Fine." He let us support him, we both took turns carrying the load. We were sitting ducks out in the open, and as an approaching squad of reds flanked our rear, we had no chance to retaliate. Bird shielded him from a spray of bullets, letting out a gross death rattle as he fell. Hit in the throat, we could hear the belch was clogged with blood. More shred his upper lip and cheek. It got incoherently hectic as a crescendo of gunfire faded from every direction.

Edy's returning team gave chase to a group of them while I laid sideways on the pavement, clenching my teeth in disarray. Enraged at the body, Largo nabbed the fully-auto off Alex and shot round bursts from the hip. The imperials had finally pulled their forces back, so we were regrouping to take back the part of town Zaka's holed up in. Most of us tired from the fight earlier. I could see it then, in all their dead expressions. Nelson, Evans, and Caird, none of them cared if they died here.

They efficiently picked the reds off, bearing their strong motivation of recompense. Suddenly I heard a pin get pulled, and a grenade the size of a peach got lobbed over a fence, rolling into where we'd bunched up. I scrambled away as fast as I could, pushing my teammates down in the process. Melville ran forwards, Lynn tackled me down lest I made an attempt at stopping him. Ashamed as I am to admit this but the thought never crossed my mind. He dove on the grenade taking the exploding fragments full force, engulfing us in an eye-stinging mist. The distant roar of an anti-tank lance muted my exasperated screams. My ears rang so loud, that it still does, even days after, mostly when I'm trying to sleep.

Rest is a blurry mess for me, save for a vivid scarlet on our uniforms.

In the evening en route back to base, Coby, who had been lagging behind, asked Alicia a favor. He succumbed to some injuries he kept hidden, slumping over on some dirt roads amidst comrades and enemies alike. I pray for an end to this sick feeling in my chest after seeing those forgotten casualties litter the withering oaks.

The operation ended in a success and the fort was garrisoned. We hid our dead in a cabin, opting to come for them with a transport later, arrangements were made to bring those bodies home. Most aren't lucky enough to have their bodies brought home. It was surreal seeing a person alive only hours ago, become a lifeless shell that slowly began to pale.


End file.
